


The Phantom of the West Tower

by Mertens



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Erik and Chrstine as Hogwarts students, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Growing Up, High School, Magic, School, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23970397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertens/pseuds/Mertens
Summary: Another world, another life, but a very familiar story.(The Phantom of the Opera at Hogwarts)
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Comments: 46
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [msdowartyheps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/msdowartyheps/gifts).



He was alone in the woods when it happened to him. He had just escaped from the traveling circus, and he had nowhere to go. He was afraid that he might die in those woods, in the dark, all alone - but anything was preferable to staying in that cage they’d put him in. 

But an owl alighted on the branch just above him, an envelope in her beak, and his life was changed forever. 

Things were different for him at school. Better, in very many ways. His face was still an anomaly, but he was more well received here. He wore a mask, even still, and vowed that he when he was older and more powerful he would find a transfiguration spell to finally look normal. 

The other students in his house were polite to him, for the most part, trusting that the Sorting Hat had known what it was doing and that looks could be deceiving. He showed an aptitude for a great many skills that earned the respect of his housemates - but Erik was well aware that respect and friendship were two very different things. 

She was in an empty church when it happened to her. It was late evening and the only light besides the single candle she had lit was the moon shining in through the stained glass window. Her father had been gone for a year at that point, yet the pain and loneliness were still unbearable. 

When the owl landed in front of her, she almost thought that it was the Angel her departed father had promised to send. Perhaps, in a way, it was. 

Erik watched from his place on the bench as the new students lined up to be sorted. It was the start of his second term at Hogwarts, and the first sorting ceremony he had seen besides his own. 

A girl with bright eyes and dark brown curls sat down on the stool and looked up curiously at the Hat was placed on her head. 

Erik swallowed hard, crossing his fingers. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and he desperately hoped she’d be sorted into Slytherin just like him. 

She closed her eyes, whispering something only the Hat could hear. After a moment her eyes fluttered open in surprise, and she shook her head a little. She glanced up again, a few more words formed on her lips. 

“ _Gryffindor!_ ” the Hat announced. 

Erik sank down on the bench, disappointed. He had hoped that the two of them might become friends, but now it looked like it was never meant to be. 

He saw her every now and then around the school. They had no classes together, being in different years, but he found he longed to see her all the same. Every so often, his wish was granted. 

He saw at her Quidditch matches and on field trips, sometimes in Hogsmead. He watched her from afar for a shamefully long time - two full years of longing and hoping. She always seemed to be surrounded by friends. He always seemed to be alone. He wanted nothing more than to go up and talk to her, but he was terrified that her gaggle of friends would laugh at him, and she was never without them. 

It was the Yule Ball that year. Erik was in his fourth year, and able to attend. Christine would only be able to attend if someone older asked her. It was a foolproof plan, wasn’t it? 

He finally saw her sitting all by herself under a large tree. He couldn’t believe his luck. He gathered his courage - he was going to ask her to the Ball. Surely she would say yes - wouldn’t she leap at the chance to go, even if it was with him?

His luck ran out. A fourth year Gryffindor boy approached her before Erik could reach her. He leaned against the tree with an easy air that would never be Erik’s. Christine’s face lit up as she nodded vigorously. She sprang up and hugged the boy, who laughed. 

“Oh, thank you Raoul!” 

Her voice floated to Erik on the breeze. 

“I can’t wait to go to the Ball with you!”

Erik froze in his tracks before turning around and leaving. Honestly, what had he been thinking? 

Erik did end up attending the Yule Ball, if for no other reason than to hide in the corner and make himself sick with pining. Christine was so lovely in her long purple and pink dress, and he hated how handsome Raoul looked in his suit. Life wasn’t fair. It was a lesson he had thought he’d learned a long time ago, but it never ceased to amaze and bewilder him even still. 

He avoided going back to the dormitory that evening, opting to sit in the Forbidden Forest and cry into his hands instead. He would never be friends with Christine Daaé, let alone anything else. He let that truth sink deep into his bitter soul. No one would ever truly love him. But - people could love his magic. That, at least, was a real possibility. 

He had always been a studious young lad, but from that day forward he threw himself into his studies, advancing at a great rate. Christine Daaé who? All he cared about was magic and music and the ways the two could be combined. 

Little did he realize at the time that this would be the very thing that drew him closer to Christine after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Christine Daaé loved her friends. She loved hearing them talk about even the stupidest of things, she loved the deep, late night conversations, she even loved the occasional drama of tiffs and spats between them. For a girl who had grown up with only her Papa for a friend, being surrounded by an entire school full of girls and boys was a dream come true for her. 

But as much as loved having so many people close to her, she found on occasion that she needed some alone time too. Whenever that mood of needing space and silence hit her, she’d slip away from her group and find some obscure area of the campus to relax in. She had several of such areas she had found, but her favorite was the West Tower. 

At the top of the West Tower was the Owlery, and sometimes she liked to make the climb there so she could pet the birds as they blinked at her with large, round eyes. Sometimes she simply sat in the littler courtyard at the foot of the Tower, enjoying the weak sunlight and strong breeze. 

She’d never seen anyone there at the same time as her before, which was why one day, as she was about to climb the last set of stairs before reaching the Owlery , she was surprised to hear the sound of singing. She stopped with a gasp. 

The singing was beautiful. 

“Who’s there?” she asked eagerly, and suddenly the Voice disappeared. 

She looked this way and that, and was certain that the only place for someone to hide was in a small room to her left. She pushed the door open, looking for that heavenly Voice, but the room seemingly only contained old birdcages, half empty bags of bird food, old and cracked pots, and various sweeping brooms and garden utensils. The faded and warped wood paneling on the walls gave her a chill. 

“Are you in here?” she asked, taking care to not stare at any one spot in the room for too long. 

“Are you a ghost?” she added when she didn’t hear anything, almost as an afterthought. 

Erik saw his opportunity and took it. 

“Yes,” the voice floated down to her, and her eyes darted up to the spot on the ceiling where the sound seemed to come from. 

He recognized Christine right away, of course. She was still always there on the periphery of his focus, never too far out of sight, though he really had tried to not obsess over her. He certainly hadn’t planned on meeting her here - he didn’t even know what she was doing here. He came here at night, sometimes, to sing with only the owls as his audience (for who else would ever want to listen to him?). It was mere happenstance that he had come here in the late afternoon - he had been feeling particularly lonely after another lunch spent by himself (he had quickly learned that solitary lunches were preferable to the awkward conversation and his presence being tolerated by the few who didn’t outright ask him not to sit with them). 

He had tried hide behind the wooden paneling when he heard her coming in, but, uncertain that that was enough to conceal him, he had cast a cloaking spell as well. He felt quite clever, knowing that spell - it wasn’t in any of the standard textbooks - he had learned it all by himself from a big book in the restricted section of the library. If it happened to be a book about dark magic, that didn’t particularly bother him - there was no evil in a simple cloaking spell, most especially not when the one wanting to hide looked like he did. 

“You were singing opera,” Christine said, her lips curling into a little smile. 

“You know opera?” he was curious now, marveling at the fact that this beautiful girl might share an interest with a gargoyle like himself. 

Gargoyle or not - he loved beauty, and he saw so much beauty in those old songs and stories, an interest that he had never heard of anyone else close to his age having. 

“My Papa wanted me to be an opera singer...” she paused, then ducked her head, continuing sadly. “ _I_ wanted to be an opera singer, too. But then Papa died and I- I just stopped singing.”

“I am so sorry, Christine,” the Voice said, concerned and kind. 

Her eyebrows raised a little at her name being known. 

“What’s your name?” she asked, curious. 

“My name... My name...” he searched for a answer. He couldn’t tell her! “My name was lost to me, long ago.”

“Oh, dear... That’s very sad. I’m sorry. What shall I call you, then?”

Christine knew a number of ghosts - the campus was in no short supply of those. Even the ones who had no names still had a title, something to call them by. 

Erik paused. 

“I am the phantom of the opera,” he eventually said. “My identity may be lost, but once upon a time, I haunted an opera house, for I was a performer there...”

How he wished it could have been true. 

“How are you here now, then?” Christine asked. 

“The opera house burned down,” Erik replied, finding the lies coming easier now. 

“Oh!” 

“Yes,” he agreed, sounding forlorn. 

“Oh, well... I’m glad you’re here now,” she said shyly. 

“You are?” there was hope in his voice. 

No one had ever been glad to have him near. 

Of course, it wasn’t really him she glad to have here, was it? As was often the case in his life, happiness was chased by the bitter taste of reality and disappointment. 

“Your voice is so wonderful,” Christine went on. “I wish I could sing like that...”

Erik very nearly offered, but thought the better of it. No, she surely wouldn’t want him to-“

“Do you think you could teach me?” she whispered. 

He thought for certain he would die of happiness right then and there. 

“Of course, Christine!”

Her face lit up, and it made Erik’s heart ache to see such loveliness. 

“Thank you! I haven’t sang in so long, I’m sure I sound like a rusty old hinge! But I’m so excited to try it again! Do you think we can do our lessons in here? Does that work for you, Opera Ghost?”

“Yes, Christine - whenever you like,” he tried to keep the tremble out of his voice. 

They began to meet in the West Tower several times a week. True to her word, her singing was rusty at first, but with his help she quickly gained back her lost skills and began to polish new ones as well. 

It wasn’t just singing all the time, either. Sometimes they talked of other things, and Erik marveled at how quickly she warmed up to him and how kind she was. She was careful to never ask too prying or personal of questions, but she seemed interested in hearing him and his opinions. 

Was this what it was to have a friend? 

No matter how long they spent together (and she had even brought a large, soft cushion to sit on in the room, complete with blanket so she could stay for longer amounts of time and not get cold), he found himself longing for more time with her. But there was no way he could ever approach her, not as himself. He would remain her ghost and only that. It was better that way. But still - he couldn’t help but glance over at her during dinners and lunches, pretending that they actually were friends, that after the meal was over they would talk together and laugh and maybe go for a walk, just like anyone else. 

Christine found her mind wandering at times when she wasn’t in a lesson with her Phantom. She enjoyed his company so much! It amazed her at times. He was smart and funny and though he was strict with her singing, he was often sweet as well. 

Several of her friends would eye her suspiciously at times, utterly convinced that she had some secret crush on someone. Perhaps she did, she thought with a blush. 

They continued lessons in that way for three months before it all came crashing down.


	3. Chapter 3

The beginning of the end started when a group of boys had used an amplification charm to spy on Christine’s private conversation with her best friend, Meg. 

The two girls had stood huddled together out on the common grounds, just two black robed figures out of many, their scarves pulled up around them to protect from the chill - but a handful of Gryffindor boys had wanted to know what she was saying. 

Though they talked in whispers, she hadn’t seen Meg, who was in Hufflepuff, in nearly a week and she had quiet a lot to say. It was thus that the boys overheard her talking about her strange, otherworldly tutoring from the phantom of the opera. 

Caught up in telling her friend of the secret things she was feeling and the unusual arrangement that was causing them, she didn’t even notice that anyone was spying. She was about to learn a lesson Erik had learned long ago - children could be cruel. 

Gossip quietly spread between the boys, some motivated by the need for general mischief, some motivated by the want to humiliate either the popular girl or the supposed “ghost” (or both), some merely going along with the little prank. Regardless of the reason, a hypothesis was created and a plan was hatched. 

When she arrived for her next lesson, neither her nor Erik realized what was about to happen. 

They had been laying wait just above them in the Owlery, listening closely to what was going on below. As usual, Erik arrived earlier than Christine, and he hid himself in the usual location. Christine arrived shortly later, greeting her invisible phantom with pink cheeks and a smile. 

The boys burst in, disrupting them. 

“There’s no phantom of the opera!” they cackled as they pulled aside the fake paneling in the wall, grabbing Erik harshly and pulling him out to fall on his knees in from of her. “It’s just Erik!”

“No, _don’t!_ ” she cried. 

Despite Christine’s protesting, they ripped his mask off of him and threw it far out of his reach, exposing his face to her and holding onto his shirt collar so he couldn’t escape. 

“He’s a creepy old creep, spying on girls and lying!” they derided him, laughing. “We overheard someone from Slytherin making fun of how he hides in walls, and we knew it had to be him!”

“Get out, get out!” Christine cried at the boys. “Leave us alone!”

Erik stared up at her, eyes wide and full of fear. He had been exposed as a monster - he was hideous inside and out for what he had done. He’d never expected to be found out - he had truly wanted nothing more than to be a Voice to her - and he was shaken to his very core to be exposed like this. 

Christine looked at him with dismay, rooted to where she stood for a long moment before she finally sprang forward to grab his mask off the ground. 

“Are you alright, Erik?” she kneeled next to him, a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

He crumpled in on himself, beginning to cry. He took his mask from her outstretched hand and reaffixed it to his face. 

“I’m sorry, Christine! I’m so sorry! How can you even bear to be around me now, knowing how I’ve lied?”

A small smile fluttered across her face. 

“I knew it was you from the very beginning, Erik,” she said softly. “I always knew it was you.”

“W-what? But- but the spells I used-“

“Did you forget I was first in my class in Defense Against the Dark Arts?” she chuckled, then ducked her head. “I could see right through those spells - they were _good_ spells, don’t get me wrong, but- but I was able to see past them with my own counterspells.”

“You-“ Erik could scarcely believe his own ears. “You knew, and yet you stayed - you let me go through all of that and pretend and you- you didn’t leave. Why?”

Her expression turned compassionate and she leaned a little closer to him. 

“Because,” she said simply. “Because you seemed shy, and lonely. I thought maybe you wanted a friend, and that maybe this was the only way you knew how. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a friend.”

“You’ve... seen me? On campus?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “I’ve seen you.”

All that time he had been glancing her way... Had she been glancing his? 

“You remembered me?”

She let her hand gently touch his masked cheek, and her smile turned wry and a little apologetic. 

“I think everyone remembers you.” 

He looked away, his mismatched gaze unable to meet her kind eyes any longer. 

“You _pitied_ me,” he spat out. 

It would always be like that for him, for all of his life, he realized. She had only stayed because she felt bad for him. He hated it more than anything. 

“No!” she insisted. “No, it’s not like that at all...”

He wiped his nose across his sleeve, trying to stem his sniffling. Could he honestly believe her?

“I hope you don’t let this spoil what we have, Erik,” she went on, earnestly. “I love singing with you, and talking with you... And I hope we can continue to do so in the future.”

Erik wasn’t certain what to say. It was so much to process all at once - Christine knew he had lied the whole time, Christine had seen his face yet didn’t run, she _knew his name_ , people were apparently gossiping about how creepy he was, he had just been accosted by a group, and then-

Then Christine leaned forward just slightly, just enough to press her lips to his in a chaste and tender yet almost eager kiss. 

And then Erik realized that even if he had known what to say, he would never have been capable of even forming the words anyway. 

She pulled back to look at him with wide and questioning eyes, and they both knew that their lessons would be very different after this.


	4. Chapter 4

Erik no longer felt quite so alone on campus. Now, when he happened to see Christine across a hallway or at lunch, she would smile and wave at him. It was a feeling he wasn’t used - being seen. Being appreciated. 

Despite being a year behind him, she was very clever and the two began to do their homework together quite often. Sometimes it would be just the two of them studying together, long nights at the library and cups of magically reheated tea. Sometimes some of her other friends would study with them in a little group. This made Erik feel awkward at first, but Christine made certain that Erik was included in any conversation and didn’t feel left out. 

They spent their weekends together, going to Hogsmead. Christine would over linger in Honeyduke’s, Erik reminding her that too much sugar wasn’t good for her voice, and then they would go to Zonko’s Joke Shop, where Erik would eye the various prank objects with just a little too much eagerness, while Christine would ask _”but what are you going to do with it, Erik?”_.

On one of the first of these trips to the village, a boy that often studied with their little group passed close to Erik and whispered something only he could hear. 

“I didn’t realize they let goblins come to Hogsmead!” 

Erik hung his head, too ashamed to say anything. Christine quickly noticed and came over to him, asking what was wrong, and after much insistence on her part he finally told her, muttering the repeated words and trying to pretend it didn’t matter. 

There was no scene made, at least not one Erik saw, but he did notice that the boy was never invited back to any of their study groups or parties. 

Erik accompanied Christine to the quidditch matches, sitting next to her in the bleachers despite being from different houses. When Gryffindor would play against Slytherin, she would clap and cheer for both teams, and Erik, who normally didn’t clap or cheer for anyone, couldn’t help but follow suit. 

And then there were the singing lessons. No longer confined to the West Tower, they used any number of places that they could find where they wouldn’t be heard or interrupted. They spent long hours together like this, and not just singing - they would discuss what they hoped to do in the future and their secret dreams and goals. They confided things in each other that no one else knew or would ever know. And, to his never-ending gratitude, sometimes they kissed as well. 

He had never kissed anyone before her, and no one had certainly ever kissed him, not even a kiss on the forehead from his own mother. He could never decide which part of the lesson he enjoyed more - hearing her sing, or the end, when she’d look at him that way she always did before leaning in to gently press her lips against his and melt into his arms. 

He was always careful to let her take the lead, to not push her for anything she didn’t want to give. He didn’t dare ask what he was to her, too afraid to find out that he didn’t mean much at all. Perhaps she kissed any number of boys like this on different days of the week. But when she was there with him, he could pretend he was the only one, and that was enough for him. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was more than he’d ever thought he’d get. 

His fears seemed nearly realized one day when a boy approached her as they sat in the shade of a large tree. Erik had seen this boy talk to Christine a number of times before, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what his name was. 

“Christine,” the boy began. “I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me this weekend?”

Erik’s jaw clenched. This was it. He was about to find out the truth. She’d say yes right right in front of his terrible masked face and he’d feel like a fool. 

Christine smiled, kind but apologetic. 

“I’m sorry,” she told him, a little sheepish. “I’m already seeing someone.”

The boy accepted this with grace and went on his way. 

_Already seeing someone?_

Erik’s teeth were grinding against each other. Who was this fiend who had stolen her heart? Was it that _Raoul_? 

“Who are you seeing?” he finally asked, not able to meet her eye right away. 

She stared at him a long moment before replying. 

“You.”

“Oh,” he felt a little lightheaded. 

Her brow knit in confusion. 

“U-unless,” she stuttered. “Did you not-“

Did he not realize they were dating? Had she not realized that they weren’t? Did he not _want_ to? 

She suddenly felt terribly embarrassed and uncertain. She’d kissed him and let him kiss her, surely he had known that that was special and just between them, right? 

“No, I do want to!” he rushed to assure her. “I do, I just-“ 

He couldn’t find the words. 

“I do,” he said simply, and reached his hand out to take hers. 

She smiled at him, squeezing his hand. 

The school year ended all too soon. Soon it was summer, and it was time to bid Hogwarts farewell until the autumn. 

“Where do you live, Erik?” Christine asked him as she was packing up her dorm room to return to her home with Mamma Valerius and the Professor. “I want to write you lots of letters over the summer! Maybe I can even visit if you live close enough!”

Erik pretended to be absorbed in studying some little snapshots she had hanging from a string above her bed. 

“Here,” he murmured. 

She paused, not certain she’d heard him correctly. 

“What?”

“I live here, Christine. I spend the summer here, too.”

“You don’t have a home to return to?”

He shrugged and gestured to the place around them. 

“This is the closest I have.”

“Oh,” she said quietly. 

She changed the subject, but the next day she brought it up again. 

“Erik, I already asked Mamma and the Professor and they were both fine with it - I was wondering, would you like to spend the summer with us?”

Erik could scarcely believe his good fortune. 

He ran to his dorm room to pack his few belongs in an eager haze, Christine following behind him and giggling at how haphazardly he was packing. 

The next day they set out for the train that would take them away from the school. It would be the first summer Erik had ever spent away - a very welcome change from the solitude and loneliness of being the only student left on campus with only a few teachers to keep him brief company. 

This summer was going to be, well, magical.


	5. Chapter 5

The train made Erik feel antsy. He had only been on it once before, when it had brought him to Hogwarts. The only other trains he’d ever been on had been with the traveling circus, and he didn’t like to be reminded of those times. 

But Christine was there with him, and she could tell he was uneasy, so she tried to keep him distracted. For the most part, it worked. They visited in with other friends up and down the train car, played games of what they could see out the window, bought candy and treats from the trolley witch, and talked about what Erik could expect during the summer. 

He was nervous about meeting Christine’s guardians, and also about staying with her for so long. What if she got bored of him? What if his constant presence annoyed her? He didn’t know what would happen then. Would they simply turn him out on the street to fend for himself? He’d have to return to Hogwarts on his own, somehow. 

Mamma and Professor Valerius, Christine told him, were both wizards. This put Erik a little more at ease, knowing this. She told him how happy they would be that Christine had begun to sing again, and that they had a big piano in their parlor and she was certain they wouldn’t mind him playing it. 

“In fact,” she said. “I think we should give them a little recital after we settle in! You can play and I’ll sing... and you should sing, too.”

He ducked his head, embarrassed. 

“I don’t think they care about hearing me sing.”

She stared out the window, a far-away look on her face. 

“You never know,” she offered. 

She told him that Mamma loved compliments on her scarves, and that he should never mention the Minister of Magic around the Professor unless he wanted to listen to hours of political critique. 

Christine was just slightly nervous about Erik meeting them. She knew they would both be kind and gracious to him, but for as much as she loved Erik, she knew he had... certain difficulties. He had confided to her in the past that a number of adults had treated him very badly - for a very long for him, there had been absolutely no one he could trust or even respect. He didn’t particularly get along well with adults, and sometimes felt the need to disobey their requests just to prove that he could. He frequently got in trouble at school because of it. She dearly hoped that he wouldn’t cause a fuss at home. 

“It’s important to me that you make a good impression, Erik,” she placed her hand overtop his. “Mamma and the Professor are very kind. I know you don’t like adults very much, but could you try to respect them as much as you could? For me?”

He nodded solemnly. 

“For you,” he promised. 

Sure enough, when they got off the train and found her guardians waiting for them, Erik was very polite. 

He felt shy at first, standing back as Madame Valerius pulled Christine into a big hug. When at last she let go of Christine, she turned and pulled Erik into a hug as well. 

He stood there dumbly as she hugged him and said how happy she was to meet him. 

“Mamma! Ask first!” Christine fretted as the Professor hugged her next. 

Although she had told them plenty about Erik, she hadn’t mentioned the things he’d suffered in the past out respect for his privacy, and she wasn’t certain how he felt about being hugged by strangers. 

Mamma pulled back and patted his unmasked cheek. 

“So this is the boy who brought music back to our little Christine!” she beamed at him. 

His mind caught up with the situation and he managed a smile. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madame Valerius,” he said politely. “And if I may so, what a lovely scarf you’re wearing.”

Mamma Valerius made a pleased noise. Erik breathed a silent sigh of relief - he so badly wanted to make a good impression for Christine’s sake. 

Professor Valerius greeted him with a firm handshake and then ushered the little group to the waiting car as he told them about the drive to the station. 

“It’s an old muggle car,” the Professor told Erik as he opened the door for his wife. “But I find it gets the job done just as well!”

Erik sized up the situation, and without missing a beat he replied, “I completely agree, sir. Muggle inventions are vastly underrated. It’s such a shame that the Minister of Magic doesn’t agree.”

The Professor slapped the roof of the car. 

“That’s just what I always say, my boy! Exactly true! Christine, you picked a good one!” the old man said gleefully. 

They endured a long monologue from the Professor as they drove home, Erik piping up to encourage him every now and then as Christine leveled a glare him. But by the time they arrived at the beachside cottage, Professor Valerius very nearly considered Erik his own son. 

Inside the cottage, Erik was surprised to be shown a room that would be entirely his - it was small and flowery, but it was _his_ , all his, and he had to bite back tears at the thought. He has been expecting to have to sleep on the couch, or in a chair, or perhaps even a storage shed. 

Dinner, too, came with many surprises. After unpacking his few belongings, he felt awkward at the little table, though he tried not to show it. He was included in the conversation, and Mamma fussed over making sure he had enough to eat, and when a big chocolate cake with the words “Welcome Home” written on it in frosting was presented, he too was given a slice. 

“What do you want to be when you graduate, my boy?” the Professor asked. 

Erik considered this a moment. 

“I want to be in the theater,” he finally said. “I want to be a musician.”

The old man’s eyes twinkled. 

“Oh? Is that so?” he smiled. 

Erik nodded. 

“There’s nothing I love more than singing,” he said, and then thought - _except perhaps Christine_ \- but he wisely left that part out. “I’d love if I could share that with others.”

The smile on his own face faltered just a little, wondering, not for the first time, how audiences would react to a masked musician. 

“I could teach, too,” he added hopefully. “I’ve been helping Christine, but she was practically perfect to begin with.”

“Erik!” Christine blushed. 

The older couple smiled at the two of them. 

“Christine’s father was a musician, I’m sure she’s told you,” Mamma said. “He made quiet a name for himself, both here and in the muggle world. The arts can be a very fulfilling career. I was a painter, myself.”

“Oh?”

“Oh yes!” she beamed. “I think I still have a few pieces hanging in some muggle museums.”

“Mamma is very talented,” Christine added. “We can show you her portfolio tomorrow, but she also painted the one that’s hanging in your room.”

“Where did you teach, sir?” Erik asked the Professor. 

He merely laughed and winked at Christine. 

“Oh my, that’s not important, is it?” he waved a good natured hand. “I think it’s almost time for bed for you two, anyway. You’ve both had a long day!”

Erik helped to clear the table, then retired to his room. He breathed a sigh of relief once he was alone. Christine’s guardians were kind, but he relished a moment to himself. Who was that kind, all the time? He shook his head a little. 

Before going to sleep he observed the painting Christine had mentioned, one of a vase with several flowers in it. In the background, there was an open window with gauzy curtains, and they seemed to flutter and flow with the same breeze that made the flowers bob and nod. It really was a very fine painting. 

He slept fitfully for the first half of the night, not used to being in a new place - or rather, not used to being _safe_ in a new place. But each time he woke up, there was no danger, only the moonlight and the stillness and the rustle of the gentle breeze outside. At last he fell into a deep and peaceful sleep that lasted until morning. 

He found breakfast to be oddly cheery, and to his wonder they all seemed genuine about it. Slowly he became convinced that nothing bad would happen, and he began to enjoy the mindless chatter over eggs and bacon and oatmeal. 

After breakfast Christine took him out to the pier, and she had to stifle a giggle at the look of shock on his face as they drew close to the beach. He had never seen the sea before. 

“We can come here every day if you like,” she told him, holding his hand as they walked on the sand and out to the big wooden dock. “I usually do!”

Erik felt dazed by it all. As though the enormous expanse of sand and water and sky weren’t enough, the pier was huge and contained a number of little stores that sold souvenirs and snacks and at the very end of the pier was a Ferris wheel. 

She bought some cotton candy for them and they ate it as they watched the endless waves glittering in the sun. 

“We should sing tonight,” she said eventually. “I think that’d be nice.”

“Okay,” he agreed. 

They spent the day on the shore, watching tiny crabs scuttling underneath rocks and seagulls circling overhead, collecting empty shells and sticking their bare feet in the bubbling surf and wet sand. 

After dinner that night, Christine announced their plan to play a few songs on the piano for her guardians. The adults exchanged knowing glances and little smiles, and Erik sat down at the little wooden upright piano in the living room. 

Christine and Erik conferred in whispers as to what he should play, and finally they both nodded. 

It was an old but lovely folk song, and Erik played it beautifully. Christine beamed at him before beginning to sing the words. 

When it was finished, Mamma and the Professor clapped and clapped, very much impressed at how much she had improved and also at Erik’s skills. 

Christine patted Erik on the shoulder, smiling at how red he was blushing. 

“You do one on your own now!” she told him, and he nodded. 

She went and sat by her guardians as he began to play a complicated piece from memory, singing along flawlessly at the same time. There was a long, long moment of silence when he finished, and for a moment he began to despair that they hadn’t liked it. 

He glanced behind him to see Mamma Valerius wiping away a tear on her cheek. The Professor looked deep in thought. 

“I’ve not heard talent like that in ages,” he mused. 

Erik ducked his head. 

“Thank you, sir.”

He was certain they were merely flattering him, on account of his friendship with Christine. 

“You would go exceptionally far, I believe, at the Wizarding Academy of the Arts,” he continued. 

Erik’s eyes widened for a second. 

“That would be wonderful indeed,” Erik concluded, then shrugged. “But I can’t afford a school like that... I wouldn’t even know how to apply...”

The Professor laughed and slapped his knee. 

“Christine didn’t tell you?” he chuckled as Erik looked at him, baffled. “Why, I only used to be the dean of that place for nearly forty years!”

Erik felt all the blood drain from his face as he looked to Christine for confirmation. She shrugged sheepishly. 

“That was the best audition I’ve ever heard, my boy - you can rest assured there’ll be a place for you there if you choose it. Scholarships, too.”

Erik was overcome with emotion. He wanted to cry. 

“Thank you,” he choked out, rubbing at his stinging eyes. 

Christine jumped up and ran over to him, hugging him tightly. 

The adults congratulated them both one more time before stepping out of the room, allowing Erik to cry on Christine’s shoulder in peace. 

Erik went to bed that night still in awe of what had just happened. 

The next morning, as he and Christine walked underneath the pier, listening to the creak of the wood and the rush of the waves, he finally asked her about it. 

“Why didn’t you tell me who he was?” he asked. 

She frowned, thinking about her answer. 

“Because... I wanted you to make a good impression on them for my sake, not your own,” she said at last. “If you knew you had something to gain for yourself in their liking you, of course you’d be charming and courteous to them... But if you didn’t know, then the only reason you’d have to try to please them would be because it mattered to _me_. You made an effort for me, and that’s what I wanted.”

Erik considered this. 

“Christine Daaé, that is the most Syltherin thing I have ever heard.”

She laughed. 

“Oh, that’s a funny story, actually... You know the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin,” she smiled coyly. “But I told it I wanted to be in Gryffindor instead.”

“ _What?_ ”

She shrugged. 

“It thought I was especially cunning, I suppose... But I grew up as an only child, and I wanted a lot of friends... And Gryffindors make excellent friends, I think,” she smiled. “They’re more loyal, on the whole. They’ve certainly been very kind to me!”

Erik stared, slack jawed, at his girlfriend. Before, he would have considered her far too sweet and kind to ever be a Slytherin, but now- 

She had convinced the Sorting Hat to put her in the house she felt she’d have the best chance of connecting to true friends in, people who would unwaveringly support her without the possibility of being backstabbed or sabotaged, and that was possibly the most diabolical (but innocent) plan he could conceive of. 

He watched as she laughed about it to herself and looked out at the horizon, and in that moment Erik knew he wanted to marry this girl.


	6. Chapter 6

The end of summer came too soon for anyone’s liking. Erik wished he could stay there at the beach with Christine and her family forever. But all things must end, eventually.

On the day they parted from her kind guardians at the train station, they assured Erik that they were fully expecting him to return the next summer, and the one after that, that they considered him family now, too.

Returning to Hogwarts was a new experience for Erik. He had never left for so long before, and now he too got to experience coming back to his dorm room just like all the other students. But more than that, he got to experience something else, too. For the very first time, he didn’t shy away from the eager conversations between other students about how they’d spent their summers, because now he had a story as well. Students talked about going to the countryside or the muggle world or the stuffy city, and Erik got to talk about the lovely cottage at the beach and his girlfriend.

The school was no longer his place of loneliness for months, and he felt he was able to do better in his studies the coming semester because of this. He didn’t get to see Christine as much he had during the summer, but nothing was a bigger motivator to get his work done early than their date nights.

The school year came and went, and suddenly it was summer again. Those glorious few months burned as brightly as the shimmering sun over the water. And then, just like that, it was time to go to school again.

But this semester — this semester it was different. This was their last semester together.

Erik was graduating at the end of the semester. He’d be going on to the Wizarding Academy of the Arts on the scholarship Professor Valerius has secured for him, but Christine still had another year at Hogwarts before she’d graduate.

He stayed up late at night, thinking about it. It was exciting, but it also worried him. A year away from Christine. A lot could happen in a year. Too much could happen in a year.

It weighed so heavily on his mind one day that he had to bring it up. They were sitting in a secluded spot under a tree, far from view of the other students but still close enough to see that they were there. Christine was leaning against Erik, and he had his arms around her. He stared out at the other students, thinking about all of them. There really were so many students here. Christine might like to date one or two of them, in his absence. It was only natural, he supposed.

“Christine?” he asked softly.

“Hmm?”

“I’m going to be leaving after this semester.”

“I know,” she said, opening her eyes and glancing up at him.

“And I thought- maybe- when I’m not here anymore... Well, we won’t see each other for a long time after that.”

He was silent for a long moment, trying to find the strength to continue what he was trying to say. She allowed him this time, knowing he wasn’t finished.

“When I’m gone, Christine- I won’t- I won’t mind if you want to see other people,” he said, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

But he couldn’t ask that of her, as much as he longed to — they were still so young, weren’t they? How could he ask her to marry him right now?

She looked surprised.

“Oh. Do you want to see other people? At the Academy?”

The thought had occurred to him before and had quickly been forgotten. There was only one girl in the whole world for him, and he knew it.

“No. I just thought- well, that maybe you, here all by yourself, that you might want-“

“I only want you,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll always want you, Erik.”

His mouth felt dry. Was he hearing her correctly? Or was the blood pounding in his ears making him hear things?

“Always?”

“Always.”

He hugged her a little tighter, and said no more on the subject that afternoon.

They finished the school year together, spending as much near each other as they could. The train ride at the start of summer was bittersweet, one she spent with her arms around him for nearly the whole trip.

When they arrived at the cottage, they found that Mamma and the Professor has decorated everything for a party for Erik, to celebrate his completing school. There was balloons and streamers and banners, and a delicious feast eaten on the picnic table that overlooked the ocean, and when the sun went down there was ice cream and sparklers and bottle rockets. He nearly cried from it all.

They tried to make the most of that summer. Long walks on the beach holding hands, long evenings spent singing together, long mornings on the pier as the salt spray of the ocean lingered in the air and the sunlight made the freckles on her face more pronounced. He loved her freckles, and he told her so.

They had long discussions that summer, too.

He brought it up to Professor Valerius, what they planned to do. The old man knowingly and nodded sagely, and then, to Erik’s everlasting gratitude and slight embarrassment, he gave Erik a small sum of money - not a fortune, but more than Erik had himself, and just enough to buy what needed to be bought.

The next day Erik and Christine went to a little jewelry shop on the pier and bought two matching rings.

Not a diamond ring - he’d buy her one of those with his own money, once he could afford it, he was certain of this. But just two little golden bands, not solid gold, not yet, but two rings that wouldn’t turn their fingers green and would remind them of each other while they were apart.

They went down under the pier, away from prying eyes, standing almost knee deep in sea water, and he placed a ring in her finger and she put one on his, and afterwards they kissed, hard and passionate and yearning as their hands tangled in each other’s hair.

All through dinner that night they both couldn’t stop smiling. Mamma and the Professor were smiling, too, happy to see how happy they were. After dinner Erik sat at the piano and began to play the duet from Romeo and Juliet, and Christine sang along. They lingered in the hallway just a moment before going to bed, Erik taking both of Christine’s hands in his and kissing them before letting her hands slide away from his as he slowly and reluctantly headed towards his own room, and she smiled wistfully at him as she retreated to her own room.

It felt surreal at times, especially as the end of their time together drew nearer, and things like scholarships and packing were discussed. When at last the fateful day had come, they helped each other pack their belongings to ease their own nerves. Erik was so antsy about going to the Academy - would people there accept him as one of them? Would he do well in his coursework? Would Christine forget about him? Christine was less nervous, but she loved how Erik dotés on her and made sure she remembered every last thing she needed to pack.

Suitcases in the trunk, they piled into the old muggle car one last time. Sitting in the backseat, holding hands tightly, they were both a curious mix of excited and sad.

It felt so strange to him, to be standing on the platform and knowing that soon this train would take her away from him, that she would be going and he would be staying behind. She said her goodbyes to her guardians, and then when she turned to Erik, he tugged her away to a more private location. He knew that Mamma and the Professor knew that he and her were engaged, but it still felt awkward to kiss in front of them. And kiss her he did - cupping the sides of her face in his palms and kissing her lips, trying to memorize the taste and feel of her while he still could.

He leaned his masked forehead against her for a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes. They wouldn’t see each other for months, but they knew that destiny had linked them together forever. They would get though, and they had an entire lifetime to spend together afterwards.

They parted with whispered words of love and promised to write to each other often, and then, with one last embrace, she was gone.

Mamma and the Professor hung back a moment, able to tell that Erik needed a few minutes to himself. He stared after the train long after it was out of view, then finally turned and smiled weakly at the only adults he had ever respected, They smiled kindly back at him. His train for the Academy was not coming for another hour, and they both sat with him near the platform, the Professor telling him stories of his own time at the school.

When his train arrived, they gave him a hug and many words of encouragement as he stepped up to the train and into his future. He promised to write them as well, a promise he kept.

When he first arrived at the Academy, the first thing that struck him was the size of it all. The Academy was huge, and it had more than Erik could have ever wanted. He could spend a lifetime here, he thought. Music, acting, art of all kinds - it was a paradise for him. And to be surrounded by so many people who liked the same things - at last he was no longer the odd one out. His classmates from Hogwarts had been tolerant of him, but nothing like how at home he felt here. There was only one thing missing for him.

Christine was always surprised by how different Hogwarts felt now that Erik wasn't there with her. Sometimes it didn't feel so very different - they had always been in different classes, so she didn't notice his absence all of the time. But in between classes, at dinners, on the weekends - these are the times when the lack of him caught her by surprise and took her breath away for a brief moment with the ache of his lack. There were so many little moments she wished she could share with him - trifling annoyances from class, pretty sunsets, dishes of ice cream at Hogsmeade, a hug. She missed his awkward, lopsided smile, his long arms and how they held her, his snarky humor, the shine in his eyes when told her he loved her.

She lay awake at night, a pain settling on her chest, and she squinted her eyes in the dark at the ring that never left her hand, running her fingers wistfully over its smooth surface. she would mentally count down the days until they could see each other again.

Erik, too, felt this loss of her in a similar painful fashion. Sometimes it was easier for him - they had no years of memories built up together in this place, this fantastic new academy with so much to see and to do and to learn. Everything here was a new experience, something undertaken and seen for the first time. There was nothing to remind him of Christine and the fact that she wasn't there with him. But sometimes this was harder. He wanted to share all these new things with her, wanted her to see and hear what he saw and heard. Most of the time he could focus on the tasks before him, but sometimes a wave of longing would wash over him. He lay awake at night, squeezing his hand around his ring, feeling like he was drowning in melancholy.

But they were never entirely alone. Christine had dozens of friends to talk to and go places with, friends who cooed over her ring and all it symbolized, friends who were there to keep her from feeling too terribly lonely. Erik, too, made a handful of new friends at the Academy, friends who seemed to see past his mask and appreciate his many talents, friends who seemed to actually care about him.

They wrote to each other as often as they could, telling of anything and everything. Big things, like exam results and future plans and how they missed each other, and little things, like meals they ate and songs they'd heard that reminded them of each other. It seemed like an owl came for each of them nearly every week, and Christine kept a shoe box full of Erik's letters to her under her bed. Little did she know, Erik was doing the same thing.

Christine smiled at the owl that brought her letter from him. She was eager as always to see what Erik had to say, but once she opened it her heart dropped. Erik was not coming home to the cottage for the summer. He had been offered an opportunity to work during the summer at the Academy, and he would not only be earning money but also make good connections with others for after graduation. He assured her of his enduring love, and how much he missed her. She cried over it, but came to terms with it after a week or so. How she missed him.

Erik was crushed over it as well, but he had plans, plans that needed money, and this was the only way to get that. He regretted not getting to see her, but knowing the look on her face when she saw what he was planning would likely make it all worthwhile.

They continued to write for the rest of the summer, and during the next semester - Christine's senior year. She graduated top of her class, and was quickly accepted to the Academy to launch her singing career. She was beyond excited, both for her own future and for the chance to see her fiance again.

When she arrived on campus it was almost three hours before she got to see him. He had been looking forward to this for ages, and his hands were sweaty as he finally found her out on the front lawn of the school. She squealed and ran up to him, and he scooped her up into his arms, hugging and kissing her. Her heart did a flip to see how much older he looked, how much more mature, his hair slicked back, his muscles a little filled out. She wondered, from the way he looked at her, if she looked older too, more like a woman than she ever had before.

"Christine," he breathed, and fished for something in his pocket.

He held up a little black velvet ring box, and she looked from it to him with wide eyes. She took it and opened it, gasping at the round diamond in a golden setting, the most beautiful ring she'd ever seen.

"You'll still marry me, won't you?" he asked, a hint of worry to his voice.

"Of course, of course!" she cried, kissing him.

He put the ring on her hand and she laughed so much she cried, almost embarrassing him by the scene they were causing, but he was far too in love to even care.

Their Academy years flew by in a flurry of performances, classes, and many happy moments together. While they often had different classes, occasionally they'd get some together, and they studied together often. Due to the different classes, they each had different circles of peers, and they introduced each other to all of them, widening their circle of acquaintances. Erik, with his deep amount of determination and knowledge, and Christine, with her cheerful, bubbly personality and charming demeanor, quickly became a popular couple on campus, and almost everyone knew who they were and liked them both. All of their professors knew they'd both have bright futures ahead of them.

And shortly after graduation, they took the first step into that bright future by getting married.

It was a big wedding, bigger than Erik could have ever imagined a wedding of his could be. To simply have a wedding and a bride who loved him was far more than he ever would have thought his life might hold, but this - this was spectacular. Their Academy friends and some of their teachers attended, and friends from Hogwarts, and of course, right at the front of the church, wiping away a few tears and smiling proudly, sat Mamma Valerius and the Professor. For Christine, it was the wedding of her dreams, the kind she'd always known she would have - a beautiful white dress, her family and friends, and a husband who loved her and who she loved more than anything in the world.

Their honeymoon was unconventional. All during their time at the Academy, they had been perfecting and polishing a show that the two of them could put on together, a show that had been their dream for some time now. Instead of a vacation, they decided to begin touring with this show, finding any venue they could, anywhere that would take them. They packed up as soon as they could, bid their friends and little family farewell, and set off in pursuit of their dreams.

It was slightly difficult at first, finding venues that would give them a chance. They faced a number of disappointments along the way, but they never gave up on their vision and the belief that this show could be great if given a chance. They worked hard, encouraging each other, and at last things started to go right for them.

It really was a beautiful show.

They spent many sleepless nights between exams and classes and any spare moment they could get to practice and develop what they did. It was the most exquisite weaving of magic and music until you couldn't even tell where one ended and the other began. Christine would sing, and play the violin. Erik would sing and play the piano. They would each use an assortment of spells to create the illusion of new costumes and backdrops and scenes. Plaintive love songs with fluttering butterflies and glimmering flowers, dramatic songs with soaring and darting birds and flames of blue and purple. Calming songs with the image of being underwater while tiny, curious fish floating through the audience. Gardens and forests could sprout up in seconds, silver rain showers, all kinds of magical worlds created and vanishing at a silent word from either of them. Erik could look however he wished, wear any face, look just like anyone else. Christine could change her hair color, sometimes blonde, sometimes brunette, sometimes red or black or even pale pink and orange. They both changed their outfits, first going on stage in a suit and normal, fitted dress, but as the music went on these shifted to anything they wished them to - beautiful Victorian dresses, dazzling capes and hats, dressed as pirates, or like the Old West, elaborate fantasy costumes like fairies and dragons.

This alone might have been enough of a show to draw crowds, but added to this was their ethereal voices bringing life to melodies unlike any heard before. Together, they touched the hearts of countless numbers of people. Soon they couldn't even accept all the offers they were receiving, the requests for their show to come to this town or that.

They toured for years and years like this, the magical world and muggle world alike. When at last they felt the need to settle down and trade their nomadic existence for something more stable, there were teaching jobs for both of them at the Academy.

Moving to the Academy was like stepping into a new kind of dream - Christine was able to help shape young minds and guide futures, just like she'd dreamed of, and Erik - Erik was able to look out at a classroom full of students who looked at him like he was smart and important and had worthwhile things to say, even when he wore his mask instead of using a tiresome spell to hide it.

Soon their first semester as professors was coming to an end. The summer was fast approaching, and they were still discussing what they might do with it. They had the opportunity to tour again, something that sounded nice. They'd visit Mamma and the Professor, they knew. All sorts of options stretched before them, not just for the summer but for the rest of their lives, any number of options of paths they could take. They discussed them at length - touring, teaching, vacations, starting a family.

They weren't certain of what they would do, or when, but they knew that whatever the future held for them, they'd be together, and for them, two people who had once been so alone in their lives, that was more than enough.


End file.
